Just another blog with nothing really to say except to express myself to no-one in particular with no particular reason other than other people are doing it. If you are reading this, you may have to tollerate posts with good recipes, great guitar, and video game references all at once. I hope that you are not too put off.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

When I was at the symphony last sunday, they played music along with aBBC animation called "The Snowman". It was a beautiful piece about aboy who builds a snowman who comes to life. Before it finally doescome to life in the night, he is watching it constantly, looking outthe window, always his eyes on it like he ever expected it. And itreminded me of a feeling I've had. The feeling that everything isalive around me, ready to spring up and move about whenever my eyesare not constantly upon it.

Laying awake at night, watching the closet with diligence, KNOWING,not simply believing but knowing that it is ready to come to life, theshapes of the shadows crouched and ready to roam free. Everything atthe edge of my vision was always moving, dancing about, sneaking away,stealing away, and quietly returning, the only thing that ever keptthem still was having my eyes upon them. They never moved when Ilooked at them, sitting there, silent, guilty.

Watching this video I suddenly had that feeling all over again. Theoverwhelming sense that everything was charged with energy and only mywatchful eye forced the whole world to remain still made my whole mindcome alive with ideas and dreams and visions. It was like magic. I'mglad I wrote this while it was still fresh in my head.

Monday, December 15, 2008

Last night I went to see Very Merry Pops at the Jesse H. Jones Hallfor the Performing Arts, and it was beautiful. There was moving andpowerful music, and beautiful singing, and even some laughs.

I loved The Snowman, they played along with the brittish animation, itwas beautiful beyond words at points, funny at others, and warm. Andit was so meaningful because I had built my own snowman this week.

I hope the power comes on soon at my house. I miss using the internet at home.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Sick of so much rain. How it pours, day after day, the rap tap tappingthat is so beautiful on the first evening becomes incessant by thethird. Driving through it every day, the roads flooded, everythingwet, my feet damp when I step out into a puddle near every curb inorder to get to the places where I need to be. It rains, simply, toomuch.

I finished Fallout 3 last night, it has been a wonderful experience,that I enjoyed fully from beginning to end, and I intend to playthrough it again, perhaps a little smarter this time.

Looks like Chris fell through and decided not to hang out with me lastnight. Oh well, c'est la vie.

I need to read. I need to make my game. I need to draw. I need toexpress myself. I am feeling a bit high strung as of late. Maybe mytrip to San Antonio will help me relax.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

It's been a long weekend, I don't know if I've mentioned it here, butI have been doing a lot of work at Chefs 2b and at my day job. It hasgotten so that most weeks, now, I work 7 days a week. This week, Ididn't have any work to do on sunday, but I did have one party earlyon Saturday. Late saturday evening, I went over to Tim and Jamie'shouse for pizza and Rock Band. It was a very calm, very nice eveningthat I enjoyed quite a bit.

I got tired earlier than usual, and I went home at 11, instead of at12 or 1. Maybe I'm getting older. Who knows? I think not, since afterI got home, I was still up till 2 reading and enjoying myself, but itwas while lying down and relaxing with Peppers Amadeus Bond, who didnot seem at all interested in sitting still or relaxing, as he tore upand terrorized my bedroom.

I had been planning for Sunday all week, though I forgot to do some ofmy plans. I forgot that I had planned to have an early dinner with myfather at 5 pm, and I slept all morning and afternoon through it.After that I went to pick up Zac and his girlfriend Lucy. They were intown playing orchestra concerts at schools around the houston area. Iwish I weren't working during all of their concert times. C'est lavie.

We ate italian, joined by Matt, Justin, and his wife Cymeron. Was anenjoyable dinner. Afterward, I took Zac and Lucy to my home and lether try my home-made wines and ales, and let them both browse mylibrary of books, and let Zac borrow Invisible Monsters, by ChuckPalaniuck.

Then, on monday, I had to go into work an hour early. The earlymornings are not very good for me. I got to work and did the weekendsamples, and then I watched Baby Mama, and Get Smart during work. Bothof these movies were superbly amusing, and I laughed quite a bit,though I expected both to be sub-par. In the evening I took Zac andLucy to a music store which opened just for us and then to our littletea shop in downtown houston. How I enjoyed the wonderful teas on thistrip, it was quite satisfying and relaxing as always. It is sad that Icannot visit there more often.

I fell asleep early, though, when I got home, with my contacts in,leading to an unpleasant awakening and realization that I had not setmy alarm clock. It's life, it happens. We'll see how today goes.

Monday, November 03, 2008

At work today, Peter came out to play. I think this is Peter v3.o Theoriginal must certainly be dead. He was out to play long enough for meto take a picture of him hunting the mouse pointer, then, to email itto my computer and take a picture of him hunting the mouse pointer ontop of a picture of him hunting the mouse pointer. And then he stayedout another 30 minutes to an hour, stalking the mouse pointer.

I had a really good wine this weekend. I'll have to post the name ofit when I get home, but I enjoyed it a lot. It was given to me as atip by a family who threw a birthday party for their daughter onsaturday. Only 3 kids came to the party, I felt a little bad that theytipped so nice and so few were there to enjoy the fun.

5 parties this weekend. I was so worn out that I didn't do anythingelse on saturday or sunday. On Friday, I had a really solid Halloweenhanging out with Tim, Jamie, and Russell. Home-made chili for the win.We also played rock band, watched scary movies, and played a boardgame. Arkham Horror. It's a very rich, imaginative, and complex game,one of my all time favorites.

Friday, October 31, 2008

I am really disappointed in myself for not being productive in any ofthe projects I have been wanting to do lately. I feel so inspired, butI'm just not following through. I need to do something about this.There are stories I want to write, things I want to draw, etc, etc.

Tonight I'm going over to Tim and Jamie's apartment for Halloween.Watch cheesey movies, play rock band, pass out candy, and maybe evenplay a game of Arkham Horror

Friday, October 24, 2008

Sometimes I need music,More than I need air, more than water.The flesh may die without these things,But the soul my burn strong.Music is fuel for the furnace of my soul.

Sometimes I take it for granted,It can be so easy to forget.When your soul is already on fire,Sometimes you can forget to eat.But when the soul runs dry,At the times when I feel hollow and empty,In the midst of moments where your soul feels like it's wasted away,As if there were no feelings of its own.

That's when I need music.

Hurt,Anger,Fear,And apathy,These forces, they eat at the life inside of me.They are not feelings, they are the absence of passion and desire,Indulgence in them feels at first like true emotion,Each one gives the illusion of substance,As they fuel your actions,By burning away at the core of your being,Their existence taking the space of the things you need.

And then, when they are all gone... nothing left upon which they may feed...

Music is there with every emotion there ever was,Sadness,Happiness,Laughter,Love,Things that the English language is literally insufficient to describe,What word is there to describe the feeling where you need to dance,To describe that you need to dance like you need music?That you need to cry and dance,And smile,And fall down,And get back up again,And to hug someone,And listen to music...

Friday, September 26, 2008

I watched something die today, while I worked. It was a massive stinkbug, something on another day and in another place I would havehappily squashed without a sudden thought.

I was sampling a rail car, and I had just pulled up my zone samplerfull of tar, thick and heavy and drizzling all over the outside of thetool, when this bug flew right at it. right into it. Its wings stuckgrotesquely in the tar and they became immobile on its back as itstruggled, falling down onto the funnel but not down into my jar. Fromthis moment it was dead. The tar would kill it, and anything thatmight wash the tar off would kill it. It was dead, it just didn't knowit, yet. Crawling about on my bucket and on my sampler and funnel. Twoor three rail cars later, it tried to climb the rope, and as I worked,it's oil weighted body fell... catching on the side of the hatch tothe car.. the oil keeping it from falling even as it kept it fromholding on... slipping.. sliding horribly downward, slowly losing asits limbs moved slowly.. as though pushing through water even in theair.

It finally fell. Landing on the dense tar, a heart wrenchingly slowsubmersion into the semi liquid. Flailing legs and squirming, coatingitself ever more thoroughly as it sunk. The black ichor swallowed itwhole, and swallowed it slowly. Forced to stand still while my workslowly drizzled the vile substance into my collection jar, I watched.Fascinated, sympathetically, filled with a sort of sickness. Howwatching this thing die in such a way made me feel... for somethingthat I might have squashed without a second thought.

How it occurs to me that it is the way it died that tore at my soul. Slowly.

Nothing should ever die slowly. What worse thing is there for a goodperson than to watch the suffering of another being? I ought to havecrushed it when first it landed in my work. Crushed it and forgot it.Better to have killed it quickly than to watch it drown, never toreturn.

Sunday, September 07, 2008

I realized something today. Psychiatrists are the greatest diplomatsthat have ever walked the earth. If they ever turned their gaze fromindividual patients who want treatment and faced it outward on theworld they could bring it tumbling to ruin in heartbeat. It has beentheir challenge for as long as the profession has existed to changepeople who believe very firmly that the whole world is wrong. Theworld is subjective, any way that you see the world that allows you tofunction is a good way to see the world. But the way we see the worldis so deeply personal, that even when we see it in a way that stops usfrom living a life we want, even when we can identify that and we knowwe want to change it, every fiber of our beings fights it.

Psychiatrists have developed and evolved the most brilliant andcoercive and subversive verbage the world has ever known. Every wordthey use is carefully aimed like a precision cut to tiptoe around youremotions and thoughts, passively avoiding questions till they need tobe asked. I was told by a therapist I knew once about the way workingwith a schizophrenic goes. Say the schizophrenic has delusions thatthe underside of their bed is plagued with snakes that will kill themany time they try to leave it. As a given, they are convinced of this,and no direct evidence could ever dispel it from their heads. Theirbrain has convinced itself of the snakes' existence. This is anunhealthy view, how can you live a fulfilling life if you never leaveyour bed? You don't confront the delusion, you work around it. You askeverything you can about the snakes. You find out if there are anyperceived ways that the person can use to get around the snakeswithout them attacking. Would it help to tiptoe? Why are the snakesthere? What do the snakes want?

A person gets mad when you tell them that something they believe isn'ttrue. I think it's because you're challenging their world. I'dcertainly get mad if you tried hard enough to convince me that thehouse I lived in wasn't mine. Everything in my universe consistentlysupports that I live here, and that I have a tangible right to behere. It is the same for a man who feels that way about a locationwhere he does not belong. The same for a stalker who believes that theperson he is chasing belongs with him.

I thought about this, because I was thinking about the verbage I useto talk to people. I've never thought much about it before, but Ithink that it is time that I began paying close attention to the way Itreat and talk to everyone so that I am more aware of my standings. Onsome level, I can never understand people when I try to look at themlike a puzzle. They simply aren't puzzles, and it is confusing.

Make the rub: In a small bowl, combine the coffee, salt, chile powder,onion powder, garlic powder, coriander, black pepper, and cinnamon.Mix well.

Place the steaks on a platter and sprinkle on both sides with the rub.Let them sit for 15 to 20 minutes while you prepare the grill.

Set up the grill for indirect grilling and preheat to high. If using agas grill, add the wood chips (if using) to the smoker box beforepreheating. If using a charcoal grill, toss the wood chips on thecoals. When ready to cook, brush and oil the grill grate. Place thesteaks on the hot grate and grill, turning with tongs, until cooked totaste, 4 to 6 minutes per side for medium-rare. Transfer the steaks toa warmed platter and let rest for 3 minutes.

This recipe comes from an unassuming steakhouse in Juarez, Mexico,called Mitla. Mitla's steaks owe their extraordinary flavor to thefact that they're cooked over blazing mesquite logs. You canapproximate the flavor by tossing a couple cups of soaked mesquitechips on a backyard barbecue grill. The fire-charred salsa reinforcesthe smoky flavor of the beef.

Soak the chiles in a bowl of warm water until pliable, about 20minutes. Meanwhile, set each tomato directly on a gas stove burner androast it over high heat until the skin is charred and blistered on allsides, 6 to 8 minutes in all. (Or do the tomatoes in a previousgrilling session.) Transfer the tomatoes to a plate and let them cool.

Drain the chiles and remove the seeds if you prefer a milder salsa.Place the chiles in a blender with the cooled tomatoes and the onion,garlic, and cilantro, and process to a coarse paste. Add the limejuice and season with salt and pepper to taste. Transfer the salsa toa serving bowl.

Set up the grill for direct grilling and preheat to high. If using agas grill, add the wood chips (if using) to the smoker box beforepreheating.

When ready to cook, if using a charcoal grill, toss the wood chips onthe coals. Brush and oil the grill grate. Salt the steaks generouslyon one side. Arrange the steaks on the oiled grate, salt side down,and grill, turning once with tongs, until cooked to taste, 2 to 4minutes per side for medium-rare. Transfer the steaks to a platter andlet rest for 3 minutes.

Meanwhile, arrange the tortillas on the grate and grill until soft andpliable, but not browned, about 20 seconds per side. Serve the steakswith the tortillas and the salsa on the side.

Using a sharp paring knife and working opposite the stem end, cut acone-shaped cavity in each onion by angling your knife toward thecenter and cutting in a circle. Finely chop the onion you've removed.Set each onion on a foil ring with the cavity facing up.

Melt 1 tablespoon of the butter in a skillet over medium heat. Add thebacon and chopped onion and cook over medium heat until lightlybrowned, 3 to 5 minutes. Drain the bacon in a strainer over a bowl.Place a spoonful of the bacon mixture in the cavity of each onion. Cutthe remaining 4 tablespoons of butter into 8 equal pieces. Spoon 1tablespoon of the barbecue sauce into each onion and place a piece ofbutter on top. Sprinkle with pepper.

Set up the grill for indirect grilling and preheat to medium. If usinga gas grill, place all of the wood chips or chunks into the smoker boxor a smoker pouch and run the grill on high until you see smoke.Then reduce heat to medium. If using a charcoal grill, place a largedrip pan in the center and preheat the grill to medium, then toss allof the wood chips or chunks on the coals.

When ready to cook, place the onions on their rings in the center ofthe hot grate, over the drip pan, and away from the heat, and coverthe grill. Cook the onions until they are golden brown and tender, 40to 60 minutes. To test for doneness, pinch the side of an onion; itshould be squeezably soft. If the filling starts to brown too muchbefore the onions are fully cooked, cover the onions loosely withaluminum foil. Transfer the grilled onions to a platter or plates andserve at once.

FIVE-SPICE SHANGHAI SHORT RIBS WITH SHANGHAI BARBECUE SAUCE

Simplify the preparation of these ribs by substituting Best ofBarbecue "Five Spice Barbecue Rub" and "Shanghai Barbecue Sauce" forthe homemade versions here. Find both at www.grilling4all.com.

Generously sprinkle the ribs on all sides with the rub. Cover the ribswith plastic wrap and refrigerate them while you set up the grill.

Set up a charcoal grill for indirect grilling and preheat to medium.Place a large drip pan in the center of the grill. When ready to cook,brush and oil the grill grate. Place the ribs in the center of thegrate over the drip pan and away from the heat. Toss half of the woodchips on each mound of coals. Cover the grill and cook the ribs untilthey are well-browned, cooked through, and tender enough to pull apartwith your fingers, about 1-1/2 to 2 hours. When the ribs are done, themeat will have shrunk back from the ends of the bones by about 1/4inch.

Just before serving, brush the ribs on all sides with the ShanghaiBarbecue Sauce and move them directly over the fire. Grill until thesauce is sizzling, 1 to 3 minutes per side. Watch carefully so thesugars in the barbecue sauce don't burn. Transfer to a large platteror cutting board and let rest for a few minutes. Serve with theremaining barbecue sauce on the side.

Saturday, July 19, 2008

Even with the lights on the shop felt dark in that way where you knowit's night outside when you can't even see where the nearest window isin the building. The way the lights seem a little less bright, andevery shadow pushes as deep into circles of the glowing hanging lampsas you can imagine. Like every minute they protect you less and lessfrom the shades that cover the world in the absence of the sun.

He pushed her body against the backdoor of the car, her legsspreading, welcoming him between them in the dark as her skirt pushedup her thighs, her left leg hooked around his hips. The smell ofgrease filled the garage as his fingertips pulled across her baredthighs. His lips caressed her smile, as she opened wide to accept hisinvading tongue as it slid warm and muscular between her lips, lickingat the roof of her mouth as she sucked on it gently, her pantiesalready damp and feeling constraining about her sex.

Both of his hands rubbed up her body as his hips pressed hard enoughbetween her spread legs to support her against the body of the car,her feet locked tight around his ass as both his hands pushed hershoulders back and her lips away from his kiss before he ripped openher blouse, exposing her barely covered bre#%!s to the air, pushingdown her bra and leaning in, his lips wrapping tight around her rightnipple, swirling his tongue around it.

Smiling, he closed his teeth around the hard nub of the nipple andflicked it as fast as he could up and down with his quick tonguesending electric shivers through her body, her hips forcing themselvesharder against the hard bulge in his jeans. Her fingers pushed throughhis hair as she gripped his head and held him close, encouraging everymovement of his lips and tongue. Every single muscle in her body wenttaught and ready to go at the grinding of that hard shaft against hermotor, and his fingers knew just how to stroke her.

Delicately, her fingers reached down below his working lips andbetween her legs, undoing the restraints covering him, letting out thebare flesh that she craved against her body as her mouth opened andmoans filled the air, mingling with the smell of sweat and used oil asshe accidentally knocked a wrench to the floor off the top of the carbehind her when she threw her head back.

Nothing was better than a mechanic inside of her... they just alwaysseemed to know how to rev her engine...

I hope you don't feel guilty enough to keep yourself from imagining mestopping the elevator that we are on in the office after hours, whenthere is no one left to call it to another floor and let you out..before I move towards you, reaching a hand out, wrapping my fingers inyour shirt and pulling you to me... sliding my tongue out and flickingit at your neck, letting you feel it hot, wet, textured against theskin of your neck, not quite hot enough to distract you from thefeeling of my hips pressing against your body, a hard bulge in thempushing into your belly as you feel my command of the situation, ofyour body.

Can you find it in yourself to forget any reason you ever might havethought of to stop yourself from letting your head roll back, andexposing yourself for me, like a gift, a simple surrender. Helpless asmy touch gropes at your hips and belly, pushing your shirt up yourbody till you feel my fingers, strong and determined wrapping aroundyour breast, the curve of your tit, and giving it a firm squeeze,handling it like it is my own personal plaything. Can you forget anyreason not to arch your back and give them both to me, to take andshow you how well I treat my toys?

Can you forgive yourself for being compromised if it was all me?Pushing myself upon you, taking you helpless to the carpeted floor asmy fingertips trace your breast, its smooth curves, its soft surface,always getting so close to teasing your hardening nipple, but neverquite flicking across its sensitive tip. My attentions maddeninglymaking you want more, but stubbornly denying it as your breathingquickens underneath my tall body holding you to the ground, my lipsmoving slowly, steadily, with a mind of their own up and down yourneck, making it difficult for you to think with the hot moist massageof my steamed and ever heavier breath on your neck, behind your ear,on your skin behind your hair as it falls out of place.

No one in the world would find blame in you for spreading your legsfor me at the moment my fingers finally flick just barely across thetips of your exposed nipples, to let me have what I want, to saveyourself from the force I would have to use if you tried to stop me.When you're mugged, you give your wallet, when you're here, under me,you give yourself. It only makes sense to spread your legs, your kneesraising up, your skirt falling down till it is spread out and rumpledaround your hips at the moment that you feel that hard bulge again,pressing against your underwear, pressing into it, grinding, hardenough that you can feel how thick it is, as the lips under yourdampening fabric spread out, you feel it between them, the barrier ofour clothes like hateful wall, preventing you from feeling the heat ofnaked flesh. If it isn't your fault, you might as well be satisfied byit, after all.

You might as well use your fingers to undo the clasp on my slacks..and pull your underwear aside when I thrust down, letting you feel theround slippery head of my flesh, dripping with thick fluid all the waydown the length of your spread lips, stroking commandingly along yourexposed pink center. You might as well thrust your hips up when youfeel it, round, wet, in charge, pressing just barely over where itfits inside, pressing just barely a quarter of an inch, sinking insideof you too slow. Is there any reason not to pound your hips forwardand let out a little scream, here, in the elevator, where no one canhear whether it's a cry for help or for more, a scream of pleasure atthe feeling of that whole length thrusting deep inside of you as Mylips finally touch yours, wrapping around your lower lip, tugging onit with my teeth, my right hand tracing circles around the curve ofyour ass, bumping over the scrunched up line that tugs to let thecenter of your underwear pull aside and let me in, and back down againbefore I pull my hand back and swat it right on you, just as I amgrinding inside of you, the pain of the hard smack feeling like pureecstasy as it mingles in your body with the heated pleasure shootingup your spine, till you can't tell which is which.

Is there any reason left why you shouldn't buck your hips hard enoughto roll me down underneath you when I'm not moving fast enough foryou. Is there any reason left in the world that you shouldn't buck andgrind and rip at my throbbing probing flesh inside of you till yourwhole body is battered with the spasms of overwhelming o%g#@!s, yourwhole body cumming with the beat of your wild hips against my willfulcontrol over you....

She found herself leaning further and further into his arms,forgetting to pay attention to the world around her as his lips movedagainst the tiny hairs on the back of her neck, sometimes not eventouching the neck itself, feeling more like a presence behind her. Hisright arm completely encompassed her waist, his fingers touching onher hip and belly. She wondered if he knew the effect of the almostthoughtless circles his trimmed nails drew on her flesh through hershirt and jeans were having on her, or if they were as innocent asthey were slow.

It never even occurred to her that she'd looked away from the moviescreen entirely. Both eyes were closed, anyway. His lips made full useof her fully exposed neck, available completely for the attention ofhis lips as she felt his fingertips slide under her shirt, and thenthe quick pop of the button on her jeans slipping free. This wasn'twhy she was here, she didn't really want this. She didn't have to stophim just yet, it wasn't as bad as it could be. She hadn't kissed himyet, there wasn't even anything that she would have to tell herboyfriend. Those fingers just knew what they were doing too well tostop them when all they were doing was lightly rubbing her belly.

Just a few more minutes and she would go and get a drink, and thatwould be that. Solutions were never any simpler, she thought as sheturned her back to his chest, spreading her legs as his fingers beganto trace the edge of her underwear.

"Thank you," Simon replied very simply, smiling. His heart was in hiswork, and he felt it was visible how much care he placed in it. Fewpeople ever said much to him about it, though. Simon didn't reallyexpect them to, they frequently had so much else on their minds. Hewasn't sure whether she knew that it was his work her compliment hadgone to.

He didn't know her name, either, but she was pretty. Her hair did thatthing where the sun glittered off of it around the edges and made itlook like it was giving off light on its own. She sat down next to himat the edge of the pond. It was Simon's favorite spot. Not because ofhow pretty the pond looked, or the view, though they were both quiteexcellent. It was really the sound of the babbling of the tinyfountains churning the water that he liked.

It was the only noise he ever heard inside of the walls of theLakeside Cemetery aside from the guests. It's not that there wasanything un-natural about the quiet inside the gates, or that Simonwas supernatural. He just liked a little bit of noise in thebackground, something soothing.

After a moment, he turned to her and asked, "Are you here visitingsomeone close?"

She nodded gently, saying, "My father."

"Were you close?"

She looked out, eyes drifting across the mild hilly landscape, filledwith trees and lattice covered trails and so many tombstones, even afew small mausoleums. His question wen unanswered for an uncomfortablylong moment, and Simon found himself becoming quite aware of thefeeling of the sunlight on his back, hot even with the cool weather.

Wind blew through the grounds, a quick cool breeze that disturbedSimon's hair. He understood. Not in any way that he could spell out orexpress what she meant, but he understood. This place was beautiful,and sometimes words just could not express why. He looked out to theright, at the top of the nearest hill, where the sculpture of andangel peered out, standing guard over the eternal resting places ofthe permanent inhabitants of these walls.

Saturday, June 28, 2008

PURE SOCIALISM: You have two cows. The government takes them andputs them in a barn with everyone else's cows. You have to take careof all of the cows. The government gives you as much milk as you need.

BUREAUCRATIC SOCIALISM: You have two cows. The government takesthem and put them in a barn with everyone else's cows. They are caredfor by ex-chicken farmers. You have to take care of the chickens thegovernment took from the chicken farmers. The government gives you asmuch milk and eggs as the regulations say you need.

FASCISM: You have two cows. The government takes both, hires youto take care of them and sells you the milk.

PURE COMMUNISM: You have two cows. Your neighbors help you takecare of them, and you all share the milk.

RUSSIAN COMMUNISM: You have two cows. You have to take care ofthem, but the government takes all the milk.

CAMBODIAN COMMUNISM: You have two cows. The government takes bothof them and shoots you.

DICTATORSHIP: You have two cows. The government takes both and drafts you.

PURE DEMOCRACY: You have two cows. Your neighbors decide who gets the milk.

REPRESENTATIVE DEMOCRACY: You have two cows. Your neighbors picksomeone to tell you who gets the milk.

BUREAUCRACY: You have two cows. At first the government regulateswhat you can feed them and when you can milk them. Then it pays younot to milk them. Then it takes both, shoots one, milks the other andpours the milk down the drain. Then it requires you to fill out formsaccounting for the missing cows.

PURE ANARCHY: You have two cows. Either you sell the milk at afair price or your neighbors try to take the cows and kill you.

LIBERTARIAN/ANARCHO-CAPITALISM: You have two cows. You sell oneand buy a bull.

SURREALISM: You have two giraffes. The government requires you totake harmonica lessons.

(Original source unknown . . . this version expanded and Illuminated by SJ.)

Sunday, June 22, 2008

Pushing her to the wall, roughly, violently, angrily, his satisfactionat the release of his rage making him throb in his pants. He'd neverforced a woman to do anything before, but she had provoked andprovoked and provoked, always saying no, always moving his hands away!

Grabbing her hands and twisting her body, the young man thrust againagainst the wall, rubbing her body against it as his bulging pantsground hard against the rising hem of the skirt above her pert roundass. It was time to make that ass pay the checks it was writing. Hebit down on her shoulder, her skin glistening with moisture alreadyfrom the heat of the summer day, the heat that would not go out of hishead, the heat that clouded his mind, the heat that was just one morestraw on the mound of mounting stress that made him too furious tocontrol himself.

She moaned, her body taken, her legs spreading. Every buck of his hipsagainst her ass thrusting and rubbing her whole body between the walland his chest. Oh how she moaned, moaned out a hushed and whisperedplea, "...no... no... please no..."

His hand moved before he even thought about what he was doing. Itstruck across her bared ass with a violent clap of palm and fingersacross vulnerable skin, leaving it tingling, and slightly off color inthe center of her cheek. She let out a moaning cry, thrusting her assagainst his hand before the second strike fell. Was she stillencouraging him? Her further cries from each strike silencing herpleading lips.

His fingers grabbed and arched and finally the spanking slowed as hetore at her underwear, his fingers pushing forward and rubbing deepalong the lips of her c%n# from behind as his palm reached down herbare and deeply shaded ass. They probed, and prodded, feeling damp ashe stroked through the thin fabric of the garment, before tearing itaside and stroking bare flesh. Faint curses barely even whisperedescaped her lips when his fingers began to work inside of her,whispers lost entirely amidst the moans the feelings she was unable tocontrol as they made her body succumb to his teasing.

Without even a thought, his pants were undone, and his hard throbbingshaft was buried to his balls in her tight flesh, his right handwrapped around her body. Her shirt was ripped open to her middle, herbreast exposed, her bra displaced as her nipples displayed openly, asmuch as the wetness leaking between her thighs, her needs, andbetrayed the false nature of her struggles. Her arms twisted, her bodysquirmed, all a show of resistance, each action only grinding herbody, as every inch of it had seemed to become a sensual erogenouszone, rubbed against her aggressor.

He filled her up, violating her. It was quick, and violent. Bothbodies sweat from the exertion as he forced her again and again, mixedfluids dripping down her thighs. They grew sticky with sweat and seedclinging together whenever their sides touched.

When he had done with her, he pulled back, dripping, his pants abouthis ankles and threw her to the bed in anger, his c%!* still raginghard from the heat of the moments. She lay there, her clothes ripped,every hidden bit of her flesh exposed, sweaty, and covered in thesecretions of their sins.

Her lips parted, and she moaned, "I've been waiting for you to get theballs to do that for weeks..."

Those words drizzled through the air like oil as they massaged theirway into his ears, her form twisting as he stood, towering over her asshe lay spent on the bed, her fingers reaching upward... wrappingaround his c%!*.. and followed shortly by her briefly still unsulliedlips...

Friday, June 13, 2008

by Langston Hughes:The new wikipedia tour of poets is pretty excellent so far. I'mtouring both poets and wine, and while the wine is extremelyeducational, I'm loving the poets more. Every email so far hasintroduced me to a knew poet, or one that I'd heard the poetry of butdidn't know the name. Today, though, it was simply a very good reasonto revisit the works of Langston Hughes. Everyone should take thiswikipedia tour, and remember to find the links in the article topoems.

"Harlem" by Langston HughesWhat happens to a dream deferred?Does it dry uplike a raisin in the sun?Or fester like a soreAnd then run?Does it stink like rotten meat?Or crust and sugar overlike a syrupy sweet?Maybe it just sagslike a heavy load.

Divide the meat into six equal portions. Lightly wet your hands withcold water, then form each portion of meat into a round patty about 4inches across.

Set up the grill for direct grilling and preheat to high.

When ready to cook, brush and oil the grill grate.

If using onion slices, brush them on both sides with melted butter andseason with salt and pepper. Place the onion on the hot grate andgrill until nicely browned, about 4 minutes per side, then transfer toa plate.

Brush one side of the meat patties lightly with melted butter andseason with salt and pepper. Arrange the burgers, buttered side down,on the hot grate and grill until the bottoms are nicely browned, 4 to5 minutes. Brush the tops lightly with some of the melted butter andseason them with salt and pepper. Using a spatula, turn the burgersand grill until they are browned and cooked to taste, 4 to 5 minuteslonger for medium. Meanwhile, brush the cut sides of the buns with theremaining melted butter and toast them, cut sides down, on the grillduring the last 2 minutes the burgers cook.

Set out the toppings. Put the burgers and onion slices on buns and serve.

Lightly wet your hands with cold water and divide the ground lamb into12 equal portions. Form each into a round patty about 1/2 inch thick.Cut the goat cheese into six equal rounds.

Place a round of goat cheese on a lamb patty; top with another pattyand seal the edges.

Set up the grill for direct grilling and preheat to high.

When ready to cook, brush and oil the grill grate. Brush one side ofthe lamb patties lightly with olive oil and season with salt andpepper. Arrange the burgers, oiled side down, on the hot grate andgrill until the bottoms are nicely browned, 4 to 5 minutes. Brush thetops lightly with olive oil and season them with salt and pepper.Using a spatula, turn the burgers and grill until they are browned andcooked to taste, 4 to 5 minutes longer for medium. Meanwhile, brushthe pita breads with the remaining olive oil and toast them on thegrill during the last 2 minutes the burgers cook.

Split or slice the pita breads to accommodate the burgers. Serve withWasabi Cream.

Combine the wasabi powder and lemon juice and mix until a smooth pasteis formed. Let sit for 5 minutes for the flavors to develop. Add themayonnaise and whisk to combine. Refrigerate until serving time.

Saturday, June 07, 2008

My birthday was pretty good. I heard from a lot of people and I feltreally loved. I am having to cancel my bbq plans for tomorrow at mymom's request, and there is no schedule to have them some other time.I'm not happy with that, but c'est la vi...

Thursday, June 05, 2008

So I don't forget, I am proud to say that Robert, Cassie, Matt,Michael Anne, Justin, Cymeron, Tim, Jamie, Jackson, Jake, John, Kevin,Russell, Greg, Trent, Chuck, and my mom all made it to the party, andit was my pleasure and honor to cook for all of them.

Memorial day was awesome. Almost everyone chipped in. I've never in mylife cooked a brisket with all the extras for so cheap. Only 60 bucksand the whole party of 17 - 19 people was fed to stuffed.

I made the best brisket in my life, which was surprising. I overcookedit a little, so the meat was a bit tough, but the seasoning was thebest I've ever done. But I also did something else special.. insteadof just slicing it, all of it, including awkwardly slicing the tip.. Ichopped the tip up to make chopped beef sandwiches with, which turnedout AMAZING. People loved the brisket, but the sandwiches were evenmore impressive and they were devoured incredibly quickly.

Kevin FINALLY brought the potato salad that his mom makes that he isalways bragging about. And.. I really have to say, it was every bit asgood as he described. It was the mustard kind, which is my favorite.I've only had his mom's cooking a few times, but she is very good.

Robert made it, and he brought some lemon souffles, which weredelicious! I loved them, and learned how to make them on wednesdayafter a long day at work. I really like Chefs 2b.

The parties are going really well there, and I'm having lots of fundoing them. I particularly like making the cupcakes, because thebatter tastes so good.

Anywho, I don't remember all the events, but Rock Band went VERY wellthat night, I made a breakthrough on the drums and I can beat almostevery song on medium now. Soon on to hard. Everyone played a lot.

It was awesome, Jake managed to come over even though he was verytired from a weekend of partying at a relative's reunion.

Okay, tomorrow is my birthday and tonight my mom is taking me out toeat, so I am out of here. I don't know what we're eating, but I can'twait to find out.

Tuesday, June 03, 2008

If you consider that there has been an average of 160,000 troops in the Iraqtheatre of operations during the last 22 months, and a total of 2,112deaths, that gives a firearm death rate of 60 per 10,000 soldiers.

The firearm death rate in Washington D.C. is 80.6 per 10,000 for the sameperiod.

That means that you are about 25% more likely to be shot and killed intheU.S. Capitol, which has some of the strictest gun control laws in thenation, than you are in Iraq.

Saturday, May 24, 2008

Pretty good movie. Saw it Wednesday night, and I was pretty impressed. Very old school. Not absolutely amazing, but very enjoyable.

I also started playing the Penny Arcade game, beautifully named "On the Rain Slick Precipice of Darkness: Episode One", which I have already finished and found IMMENSELY wonderful, so much so that I am VERY eagerly awaiting Episode Two. The characters were beautifully done, the transitions between animation and 3d were excellently performed, the combat well balanced, and the pacing of the entire experience very precisely executed for a very superbly paced experience.

Also, the cooking classes at Chefs 2b are getting much better, today I was on time, well paced, the only mistake I made was not filling up the cupcake papers high enough and wasting a little batter, but next time I will do better. When I talk to Robert, now that he's back from his honeymoon, I'm going to ask him if Jeannette, who has been wonderful.

My free HD DVDs from Toshiba arrived in the mail. Only got one of the ones I asked for, Aeon Flux. They sent me a copy of The Departed, which I already own, The Order of the Phoenix, which I'm not interested in owning, Casino, which, admittedly, I've never seen before, Mission Impossible 2, which I disliked entirely. So.. I got one good movie and one that may be good. Pretty lame deal.

I really shouldn't try to catch up three or four weeks of not blogging regularly with one post. I'm barely scratching the last few weeks surface, because even being swamped at work I've managed to completely fill my spare time.